


Phil Coulson, T.E.A.C.H.E.R.

by Selmak



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 21:39:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10558116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selmak/pseuds/Selmak
Summary: Phil Coulson is a nice, respectable teacher.  He is well liked by his peers, thought of as hopelessly square by his students, and has won the Award of Worst Dressed by the secretarial staff for the last five years.More importantly, he follows the company line.Episode 4X17





	

Phil Coulson, T.E.A.C.H.E.R

Phil Coulson is a nice, respectable teacher.  He is well liked by his peers, thought of as hopelessly square by his students, and has won the Award of Worst Dressed by the secretarial staff for the last five years. More importantly, he follows the company line. He remembers birthdays and wedding anniversaries, and he has even rescued a cat or three from a tree.

Every morning in home room, he recites the HYDRA Pledge. He does his best to explain to his students why HYDRA is good, individuality is bad, and how following the HYDRA line is the best thing. He tries his best and when the men in suits come in to take one of his students away, he mourns. It’s his fault, as he didn’t succeed in preventing their youthful stupidity from leading them into temptations.

But it’s the Inhumans that scare him. They seem so normal, but they’re not. They’re psychopaths (See Cambridge…. See the countless atrocities committed by them as they want to rule over their lesser brethens.)

Every day he does his best for the greater good. From the moment he wakes, he follows the same routine. He showers, has his cup of coffee (Kona beans, his one great treat for  himself as his 2003 Subaru needs to be replaced but teaching students doesn’t permit him luxuries of new cars.) and so on and so on until the time he goes to bed at night. He is perfectly, absolutely respectable.

And if sometimes, he dreams of more, he’s not surprised. However, he knows that his life is enough for someone like him.

He’s not Felix Blake, Hero (why does that name disturb him? Haunt his dreams with the ghastly images of a man weeping from pain? Why does he watch Blake on the nightly news and wonders when his true nature will be revealed in all its awesome, blistering acidicness) or Leopold Fitz, the genius with a dozen doctorates who has saved Humanity time after time. (Why does he see pictures of Dr. Fitz and ponder the deadness in his eyes? Why does he look at him and think of a young man in plaid? Why does he mourn that young boy?)

And if there are times when he wakes from nightmares, rubbing the scar from the cardiac surgery that had saved his life when he was a kid (and wishing that the doctor had been less of a hack as the scar is ugly and present and… there are times it hurts to breathe and the pain runs down his arm and he has to check to confirm that his arm is still there because it hurts that bad…) it’s because he’s pathetic.

One time, he had gone to a psychologist because he felt as though there should be more to his life.  That there was a feeling that there was more to life then what he was doing day after day.  There had to be more than this?  More than teaching students, more than the daily monotony of a single life,

The shrink had been succinct in her appraisal. His life sucked, he was a virgin (as he had never wanted to risk the ridicule of showing someone this surgical scars), and he desperately wanted to be more like… Jasper Sitwell.

(SITWELL! Sitwell? SITWELL?)

The hero who had taken down Steve Rogers (Commie bastard) and his girlfriend (NAT) when they had tried to overthrow the government.

But he simply wasn’t cut out for heroics.  He was good at teaching the young and that’s what he should strive for. To prevent the next Steve Rogers and to help nurture the future generation of Sitwells, Fitzes and Blakes.

And while he was pathetic, he still noticed that he had been followed… watched… after he had gone to shrink so he knew that he was in danger of disappearing.

(For wanting **_more_**?)

So he kept his head down, cancels his follow up appointment, claiming acceptance of his inherited patheticness and he watches and observes.  Even worked on saving his money for a trip to Tahiti, where the skies and seas were so blue… it was also magical.  His frugality became a joke, as one day a Hulu Dancer figurine arrived in his class room. It was on his desk, and it was soothing to watch it move.  Therefore he kept it along with the postcard that had arrived in his mail.

The compulsion started then.  The uncontrollable urge to write ‘It’s a magic place’ over and over and over again in neat print on lined paper. (So easy to burn, to get rid of the evidence)

The newspaper clippings… the obvious questions that weren’t addressed….acknowledged.

Planting daisies in his yard. Daisies? DAISIES?

So he strove harder to keep himself under the radar.  He took cooking classes for the dates he would never be on, (and the suits faded from view …. Or they were getting better at hiding), went on dating sites… surprise... no matches… struggled to be normal.

Tried to protect this students.

And when he felt swirly, as though he was meant for more. That reality was ass over teakettle. To combat the urge, he just repeats to himself, _Tahiti is a magical place._

Until the urge faded.

He was Phil Coulson. Teacher.

It was enough.

Until the British lady accosted him in his office (where was security? Where were the damn suits?). The poor girl was in the throes of a psychotic break and informed him… “Tahiti is a magical place” while she brandished the Hulu dancer like a crucifix.  


End file.
